Mister Ed Meets Dennis The Menace
by JennaSueBennett-Author
Summary: A crossover fanfiction of Mister Ed and Dennis The Menace. Ed is feeling lonely when Wilbur is too busy to spend time with him, so he looks for a new best friend to talk to. Dennis Mitchell is visiting his friend, George Wilson, who recently moved near the Posts and the Addisons. When Dennis and Ed meet, hilarity and catastrophe are bound to ensue!
1. Chapter 1: New Best Friend

**I hope you enjoy this crossover Mister Ed & Dennis The Menace Fanfic that my little brother, Noah, and I have been writing together! Noah loves the classic sitcoms, these two are his favorites, so he decided to put them together for his first Fanfic! All story ideas are his... I'm the ghostwriter here :D Enjoy! -Jenna Sue**

 **Chapter One - New Best Friend**

Mr. Ed, a stout palomino, stood in his open stall, eyes glued to the western movie playing on his own private television set. He loudly slurped his water pale from a long tube that he used as a straw, while the barn blared with the sounds of gunfire and Indians war-calls. His eyes did not move from their fixed location when the barn door opened.

Wilbur Post, Ed's owner, an architect who worked from the desk beside the horse stall, entered the stable with his hands covering his ears. "Ed! Turn that TV down!"

Mr. Ed grunted, but complied. His nose tapped the volume button on his remote control only once.

Wilbur was watching. "More, please!" He demanded, impatiently.

Again, Ed's nose tapped the control. This time, turning it down to a decent volume. "Can't a guy have a little fun around here without someone messing it all up for him? I'm bored!"

Wilbur uncovered his ears and proceeded to his desk, quickly spreading out some blueprints he'd been working on. "You wouldn't be bored if I put you to work like most normal horse owners do."

Ed grunted.

"Actually, I had a friend of mine ask me if he could rent you sometime, he's clearing a field. You could have all kinds of fun pulling wagons of dirt and rocks and stumps. I wasn't going to take the money for your labor, but since you're so bored around here, I can't stand in your way of happiness. What do you say, Ed?"

Silence.

"Ed?"

"Uh, what were we talking about, Wilbur?" Ed asked, innocently.

Wilbur chuckled. "Just what I expected, lazy ol' horse."

"Who are you callin' lazy, Pal? I work plenty hard around here!"

"Doing what?

"Like carrying you around on my back!"

"And what's so hard about that?"

"What's easy about it?" Ed laughed. "I don't see you offering to carry me around on your back!"

Wilbur chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a pencil and beginning his work.

"Wilbur," Ed whined. "Buddy Boy, why don't you take me to the park and we can visit with the fillies, huh?"

"Not today, Ed. I've got to make some changes to these plans and then I'm playing golf with Roger and some buddies." Wilbur worked busily.

"Well, then how about taking me on a late walk. I heard that red-head filly, Gingerbread, always goes out at night with her newlywed owners. How about we join them? Nothin' better that a moonlight trot with someone you love." Ed turned the TV off to devote his full concentration to convincing Wilbur to take him.

"We can't intrude on a couple of newlyweds. Besides, I'm taking Carol out to dinner this evening. She's been counting on going out for a while now, and I can't let her down." Wilbur sharpened his pencil, wearing the look he always had when he felt guilty for something. He knew what was coming next from his talking horse.

"What about your poor lonely little horsey?" Ed used his fake tears. "What about letting me down?"

"I'm sorry, Ed. Maybe next week I can take you over to Tallyho Stables and you can see all your buddies, huh?"

Ed continued crying, "Well, if golf with old Sour Puss, and a fancy dinner with that blonde mean more to you than lifelong devotion and companionship of your best friend… Then… Then…"

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Then what, Ed?"

"Then I'll find a new best friend." Ed opened the door that led out to the yard. Just before stepping out he looked back, "Maybe then you'll find out what it's like to be lonely!"

 **I know my brother Noah would love to read your reviews & please remember to subscribe! Thanks! -Jenna Sue**


	2. Chapter 2: Hole-In-One

**Chapter Two - Hole-in-One**

Wilbur swung his golf club hard. He flexed his hand against his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he looked out over the course for his ball.

"Uh, Wilbur…" Roger Addison tapped him on the shoulder, mustache twitching from laughter. When he'd received Wilbur's full attention, he pointed down to the tee.

The ball was still there, untouched. Laughter abrupted from the golfing group, embarrassing Wilbur.

"It's still your turn…" Roger said.

Wilbur shook it off and readied himself for another shot. "I could have sworn…" he practiced his aim a few times back and forth, "…I had that lined up."

Roger stepped back from the club. Wilbur swung.

The club hit Wilbur's foot.

He wailed and dropped his club, his ball still immobile atop the tee. Addison and the rest of the men nearly suffocated in laughter. Wilbur hopped on one foot while he held his injured one.

Roger's voice squealed when he tried to speak, "You… You came closer to hitting that ball than I thought you would that time, Wilbur."

Wilbur tugged down on his golf shirt. He put on his determined face on, and prepared for the shot one more time. He was just about to swing, when…

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen." Said a man approaching them, retirement age. "Sorry I'm late. I was held up on a telephone call."

Roger extended his hand. "Wilson. Glad you could make it." He turned to the other men. "I'd like to introduce you to our little neighborhood golf assemblage. Frank Buchannan, Don Quincy, both lodge brothers of mine. And Wilbur Post, my next-door neighbor. Men, meet George Wilson, he moved into that house on the other side of mine."

They each shook Mr. Wilson's hand, exchanging greetings and pleasantries.

"Well, Mr. Wilson." Wilbur began, "I thought Addison would never sell that house. Not at that price he was asking."

"It's George. And, I thought his asking price was very reasonable when taking into consideration all of the peace and serenity and quiet of this wonderful countryside." George placed his hands on his chest and took in a deep breath. "And his selling price was even more reasonable after I finished working on it." He winked to Addison.

"Reasonable? More like stolen goods." Roger pointed to his new friend. "This man here drives a hard bargain. Take my advice, don't enter into any type of transactions with him."

Wilbur punched Addison's arm. "Sounds like you."

"Every penny of what I paid for the house was worth it a million times over just for the peace of mind." Wilson extended his right arm, steady, muscles strong. "Would you believe it, before I moved, my nerves were a nervous jittering mess. That's why I moved! But already, I feel as if I had a ten-year vacation."

"I believe it." Roger commented. "Peace and quiet is one thing we have plenty of around here. Just so long as Wilbur here keeps his old plug locked up and away from my apple tree."

"Oh?" Wilson started to look worried. "A horse? Well, I do a lot of gardening, and I like to keep things neat. I just left a neighborhood where the little boy next door was just a menace! Always coming over and getting into my flowers." He imitated the boy's voice, "'Hellooooooo Mr. Wilson!'" He was tense and jittery just from speaking of it. "I might just have to move if I have any problems from this horse of yours, Post."

Wilbur opened his mouth, but Addison gripped his shoulder. "Wilbur here always keeps that old plug locked in his stall… where he belongs… Right, Wilbur?" Roger demanded the answer from Wilbur.

"That's right." He answered weakly.

"Well, enough of this talk. Why don't we play some golf, huh?" Roger slapped Wilbur on the back. "I believe it's still your turn, am I correct?"

Wilbur nodded and reassumed his stance. He swung at the ball, wide open… And once again, he used his hand to shield his eyes. This time, the ball was not on the tee, but 2 feet away from it.

"You do know that in golf, the lowest score wins, not the highest?" Roger teased.

Wilbur rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, Post." Mr. Wilson consoled. "We all have days that are off." He placed his ball on the tee, and chose his club. "I'll probably have the highest score today. I haven't played in months, I'm sure I'll be a bit rusty." He chuckled.

He swung the club like an expert. The ball soared into the sky.

Later, they found it had landed in the hole… A hole-in-one!


	3. Chapter 3: Oh, Great Scott!

**Chapter Three – Oh, Great Scott!**

In his stall, Ed stood staring at out into Wilbur's office, quiet… alone. No one to talk to… No one to take advantage of this incredible privilege of speaking, and being spoken to, by an animal of such high intelligence and intellect as the horse… or, at least, that is how Ed viewed the situation.

Wilbur had already driven off with Carol for an evening on the town, but before he left, he'd told Carol he's forgotten his wallet at his desk and dashed into the barn to recover it. It was really an excuse to check on, and say goodbye to his beloved horse. His conscience had been working on him all day taking its toll on him in his golf scores. It made Wilbur even more guilty when Ed decided he would withhold speaking privileges from Wilbur, temporarily, until he was promised more time with his master and friend.

But the whole not-speaking-thing was driving Ed more crazy than Wilbur, though Ed never admit to it. In his state of silence insanity, who knows who he would talk to if they were to walk through that barn door! "Carol? Kay? Roger? No," Ed thought, "it would work at first… until they talk to Wilbur and he tells them it's true. That I can talk and they're not just crazy. It'd be just like Wilbur to go and spoil everything like that." Ed spoke aloud, trying to make himself believe that he was really mad at Wilbur. "What about the milkman, or the paperboy, or…" He was on to something there. "Yeah, a kid. Who would believe a kid who said he heard a horse talk?"

But what kid?

* * *

In a little house, not too far away… just on the other side of Addison's… it wasn't so silent.

"Martha! How could you?" George Wilson exclaimed. "My nerves were finally, finally, FINALLY starting to recover! I was just starting to settle into my quiet retreat away from the calamity of retirement, and then you invite the calamity right into the midst of my refuge!"

"I'm sorry, George…" Martha, his wife sincerely began in her defense. "But what was I supposed to do? Say that they couldn't come? They said they would be here for the weekend, I had to offer them our spare rooms. It just wouldn't have been civil not to."

By now, George had stopped pacing the carpet and collapsed onto his sofa. "I just don't know how much more I have to endure!" He lifted his teary eyes heavenward, "How much more?"

His sweet wife walked over to him, sat beside him, and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's only two short days. Just forty-eight hours. It's not the end of the world."

"Oh, Great Scott, Martha!" He stood quickly, walking over to the wooden window frame. "Now why would you have to go and say a thing like that? You know it would only take Dennis Mitchell forty-eight seconds to bring the world to a complete end!" He raised a fist to the wood and began knocking it, just to be on the safer side. Then, instead of his fist, it seemed more useful to use his forehead. He gently banged his head against the wooden window frame, again, and again, and again… pitifully.

Martha stood, leaving the sitting room for the kitchen, "I'll get you an ice pack, Dear."

* * *

And a few cities away, a young blonde-headed boy dashed around his room. He ecstatically threw all his essentials into a suitcase packing for his trip to Mr. Wilson's… A baseball mitt, his frog, water-pistols, slingshot, hammer, nails, glue, scissors, his rock collection, a few half-eaten chocolate bars… You know, just the absolutely necessary items. His mother told him to pack lightly, since they would just be staying the weekend…

 **To Be Continued…**


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